


i have loved you for a thousand years

by dykejaskiers



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance, Short & Sweet, Wordcount: 100-1.000, immortal husbands!!!, one day i'll write something longer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25223164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dykejaskiers/pseuds/dykejaskiers
Summary: It's him.Again.Yusuf shields his eyes from the blinding desert sunlight, staring into the near distance where a man is stood, alone, a harsh silhouette cut against the bright blue sky and peach-coloured sand.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 23
Kudos: 715





	i have loved you for a thousand years

**Author's Note:**

> Do I have the energy to write a long fic? No. Did I fall absolutely head over heels into the abyss of this movie? You betcha.

It's him.

Again.

Yusuf shields his eyes from the blinding desert sunlight, staring into the near distance where a man is stood, alone, a harsh silhouette cut against the bright blue sky and peach-coloured sand.

"You," Yusuf calls out in Arabic. The single word carries between them. The man's heard it enough to recognise the familiar syllables. 

"Me," He replies in Italian. He crosses the distance between them in quick, long strides, until he's standing in front of Yusef, toe to toe, noses almost brushing. "You're not dead," he observes. 

"No," Yusef confirms. "You, neither."

The silence stretches as the sun burns into their armour, burrowing into their skin. Yusuf's thirsty, hungry, exhausted – he's sure the man is, too. In the high noon sun, Yusuf offers the man a seat next to him in his camp.

He asks for a name. He receives one. He gives his own. Equal exchange.

Nicolo smiles around the sounds of _Yusuf ,_ repeating it to himself a few times, testing it out. He must decide he likes it, since what follows is an offered hand and flask of water. Night comes, and night goes. Yusuf sits next to the man he's killed - ten? twenty? - times by now. He remembers them all. He equally remembers being killed, the same eyes that stare at him now being his last memory of that life. Perhaps it is the universe's will, then, for them to be like this. Tied together. Perhaps it is not, but Yusuf can't think of what else to do with their situation.

They sit together in the middle of nothing, owning nothing and needing everything. One morning, Yusuf wakes to see Nicolo has not. The heat and starvation must have claimed him. The blossoming sense of panic in Yusuf's chest surprises him as he shakes Nicolo, trying to stir him awake. This man is his enemy. This man should be dead many times over. Yusuf should be looting his body and leaving, before he follows the same fate. 

Yet.

He sits Nicolo upright and kneels before him, holding his limp head between his palms. They've performed this miracle twenty times and more. Nicolo remains cold and rigid. Yusuf hopes. 

And then Nicolo's eyes flutter open, finding Yusuf's in fractions of seconds. Yusuf watches the relief flood in, and feels the same sensation curling in his chest, making itself comfortable. He leans forward, forehead against Nicolo's chest.

And so they begin.

* * *

"Yusuf," Nicolo says. "Look - it is the foolish man, back again."

Yusuf turns his head to see the tavern door slam open, and a drunken man wander in. He's filled with purpose as he scans the room for signs of them. Upon noticing Nicolo, leaning against the wall, and Yusuf, raising a skeptical brow, he fumes not unlike a boiling kettle about to wheeze. 

"Ah," Yusuf exclaims. In Arabic, he says, "The gallows seem to call for us."

"Boring," Nicolo says. "Not even a proper fight? I haven't killed a man in seven days."

Yusuf clicks his tongue, turning his back to the man making his way towards them. " _Ya amar._ This slug is not worth your craft."

Nicolo inclines his head in agreement. "Should we kill him, though?" He asks in no-longer clumsy Arabic. "I'd rather not be-"

"Sodomites," the man spits. "I've seen you, you know? Lounging about. If I could kick the boxes under your feet myself-"

In a flash of metal and a flurry of movement, Yusuf has the man in a headlock as Nicolo skewers him between the ribs, clean and fast. A hush of silence falls in the tavern. The man topples to the floor, spitting blood down his pasty chin. 

"We should go," Yusuf says, kicking the dying body further away from him. In the background, someone's asking after the police.

"Right as always," Nicolo agrees.

They flee England.

* * *

" _Habib albi,_ " Joe mumbles against Nicky's lips. 

" _Amore_ ," Nicky whispers back. 

It's been over nine hundred years, yet the kiss pulls at Joe's heart, sends goosebumps across his skin. He could never count the amount of times they've done this, done more, but it will never become boring. Nicky changes every day, like all things do, and every day, Joe gets to learn him all over again. It is exhilarating. It's love.

"I love you," Joe says. He follows Nicky as he walks them backwards towards the wall of the room, chasing his lips and peppering kisses wherever he can.

"You better," Nicky laughs. His back hits the wall. "My love. My life."

"Always," Joe says, and he means it. 

They've had a forever. They'll take another. 


End file.
